


Someone Gets Hurt (Reprise)

by nonbinaryvamp



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Pride event related AU?, Spot fights Jack, Then they gotta replan the event, homophobia mentions, literal homicide threats, quite a few threats, theyre mostly here but im not tagging every newsie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-13 12:11:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14748620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonbinaryvamp/pseuds/nonbinaryvamp
Summary: Bravery wasn't the word. He had just yelled at Spot Conlon, trying to excuse his pitiful actions. Narcissist was more like it. Regret followed in silence, basking in the glow after the gold went away.





	1. The End (Or The Beginning)

**Author's Note:**

> Mmmmmm okay, backstory is there I swear. This was just... A fifty minute project for nothing I guess.
> 
> Warnings: They fight a bit, it's not graphic. There are a few slightly graphic mentions of blood. Homophobes are mentioned.
> 
> (Oh and yes, that is a reference to the poem Nothing Gold Can Stay.)

“No! How many times-  _ how many fucking times _ \- did I tell you that was stupid? How many times did I say you would regret it, one way or another?” Spot was yelling, Race and David stood some distance behind him.

“Spot.. I..” Jack couldn't find the words to explain his actions.

“Do you  _ always _ turn your back on your friends in a bind? We were counting on you! These kids were counting on you! At the mention of a threat you laid down on your back and let them bare their fangs at all of us!” Spot said, and suddenly Jack was happy the rest of the gang and kids had cleared out.

Spot showed up after he wasn't supposed to. The deal had been made, he thought he'd be letting down a few people at best. Not everyone and every kid they had an alliance with.

Right, because this entire thing was caused by hate. They planned a pride event and it was cancelled by some homophobes, going as far as threatening lives if the event was held.

Yet Jack, ever the loud mouth, called them out. He worked harder for justice, but evidently he had no plan on carrying through.

The rally had been called off, he made the announcement without consulting anyone. When the King of Brooklyn, Racetrack Higgins, and Davey Jacobs show up at your apartment you know you're in trouble.

“You always were a coward.”

Jack bit his tongue.

“And to think, those kids were waiting on the famous  _ cowboy _ to make a call and get them equality, yet all he did was sacrifice everything for his own gain.” Spot said, still absolutely furious.

“It's not my fault! What about you, huh? You didn't help until today! No one cared until today!” Jack retaliated, and for half a second David marveled in his bravery.

Bravery wasn't the word. He had just yelled at Spot Conlon, trying to excuse his pitiful actions. Narcissist was more like it. Regret followed in silence, basking in the glow after the gold went away. 

Naturally, Jack whipped around so he didn't have to face the other three boys.

“Really?” Spot scoffed, “I thought you had it under control until now, and the kids were excited to come today. You're the one who threw it all away right as we tried to be here.”

“We get that you were scared, Jack-” David said, attempting to negotiate peace, as usual.

“But you threw us under the bus!” Race raged, rushing forward and past Spot.

The second Race got a bit too close, Jack swung back around, fist curled tight and wound like he was going to land a punch.

David gasped while Race ducked to the left and Spot lunged to be at his right.

“Don't fight!” David yelled, just to be ignored by all three pissed off boys.

By the time the third punch was thrown, Spot has a bloody nose and Jack was on the ground, curled in on himself. Race stared at the two of them, as if he wasn't sure what to do, and then leisurely took a step over Jack's body.

Spot followed, a grimace on his face whole the blood dripped off of it. Surely his mouth tasted of blood. That's most likely all he could smell, too.

Spot didn't bother to shut Jack's front door and David knew it was an invitation and a threat. Stay with Jack, side with him, and every ‘newsie' in New York would know his name and face with one thing in mind. To soak him.

Follow Spot and Race and help them rebuild things, help all the others kids and his new adopted family. Forget about Jack until the day he comes crawling back to apologize.

David knew he had a choice, he knew it well.

Despite his feelings for Jack (a raging hurricane of feelings, but, feelings.) he took a step around his body and strode to the front door, closing it with a soft  _ ‘click.’ _


	2. Do You Know Whatcha Got Into?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you burn the bridges between you and such close people to you, it hurts. It's a searing pain that shoots through your entire body and numbs your mouth as you feel the vile travel up your throat. It's the moment you marvel in the terror that hit you a moment too late, kind of like the punch that- literally- knocked the breath out of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is only 500 words and its a fucking flashback! I am very sorry! 
> 
> Warnings: talking about murder, hate crimes, threats, all that jazz.
> 
> Chapter title taken from: For Your Entertainment by Adam Lambert

Jack regret it all.

He regret taking the deal, even though he knew it was for the safety of hundreds. He regret fighting Spot and trying to punch Race.

When you burn the bridges between you and such close people to you, it hurts. It's a searing pain that shoots through your entire body and numbs your mouth as you feel the vile travel up your throat. It's the moment you marvel in the terror that hit you a moment too late, kind of like the punch that- literally- knocked the breath out of him.

It wasn't like a usual fight. It was so much more.

So he laid on the ground for a while. He drew his hands up to his face and listened to the door slam shut, his gut wrenching as he realised the mistakes he had made.

The first mistake had been taking the meeting with Pulitzer and Snyder.

* * *

 

_ “I don't know why you insist on holding this meeting, but I no longer work for your company as of yesterday and calling me here better be worth my while.” Jack stared across the table at the two scowling men. _

_ “Mr.Kelly.. I have called you here to discuss that event you're holding on June 27th. That rally- it cannot happen.” Pulitzer seemed almost cautious when choosing his words, but he still spoke with the same force of a man who had never been told ‘no.’ _

_ “Oh? Because I think it will happen.” Jack said. _

_ Snyder grimaced, standing up and closing the door leading to the office. _

_ “Now, Mr.Kelly, this event cannot be held because it is unethical to host a public event that the public does not agree with.”  _

_ “Plenty of the public agrees.” _

_ “Mr-” Snyder cut in. _

_ “If you want to say you're homophobic, say it. Why hide it? That is why you fired me.” Jack stood, grabbing his bag and taking a step toward the door. “I'll be leaving now.” _

_ Pulitzer stood abruptly, leaning over to Snyder to whisper a few things in his ear before turning back to Jack. _

_ “Mr.Kelly! You underestimate the lengths we will go to to stop that silly rally.” Pulitzer said. _

_ Jack's heart stopped in his chest. He could hear his blood rushing in his ears as his anger rose, but he couldn't leave and let them harm people. _

_ “Ah… That caught your attention. Yes, Mr.Kelly, we will use force if necessary. Who knows how far that force might go.” _

_ It was an open threat. It could be a lie, it could end up in injuries, or murder. Cold blooded murder because someone isn't straight, cis, or even white. Of course. Pulitzer never hid his disdain for those who were ‘different,’ and Jack doubted he'd pull back from such an intense threat. _

* * *

 

Everything after that was a blur, it happened as if Jack was a ghost, floating through the abandoned halls of an opera house. If that were reality, Jack believed the opera house would be on fire  _ and  _ under 3 feet of water.

Jack had agreed to call off the rally, and did so without mentioning it to anyone else who had helped plan it.

That was where he went wrong. Medda had told everyone about the event being cancelled and everyone was furious, absolutely alight by the idea of their brave and fearless leader suddenly calling off everything they had worked so hard for. 

The chandelier had crashed to the ground, taking dozens of people with it, and Jack stood in a balcony and just watched.


	3. Vampire Money

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “They totally could, if you wanna message them about all of it. Oh! And Smalls said she'd talk her dad into letting us use the park downtown, so Medda isn't pulled into drama. Snipes has the fireworks covered as well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOT A FUCKING WARNING HOLY SHIT THIS IS MAINLY JUST ME GEEKING OUT FOR ALL OF THEM TBH HERE'S A BIT OF SPRACE FLUFF AND CUTE ASS CRUTCHIE!!!!

David disappeared for a week. He locked himself up in his and Crutchie’s apartment and turned off his phone, and on the 7th day, ignoring Crutchie’s frantic knocking until it got annoying.

So he flung the door open, and his breath caught. Crutchie was standing, eyebrows furrowed and the darkness of David's room casting a shadow on his face, with a withered black rose in his hands. It was wrapped delicately with a black satin bow.

“Listen.. Davey.. I'm not saying he deserves you or anything, but can you at least hit him up or something before he goes full stalker mode like, um,” Crutchie looks down at the rose, “Listen, I don't wanna deal with Phantom of The Opera part 3.”

David watched another petal fall off the rose, and slowly make it's way towards the floor. He gave Crutchie a slow nod nod took the flower, wondering how long it had been waiting or him.

“4 days.. You wouldn't open the door and I didn't wanna, like, squish it under. No preservation for the little son of a bitch either.” Crutchie said thoughtfully.

David found himself lucky to have a friend and roommate somehow able to read his mind.

“What do you mean, no preservation?”

David twisted the rose in his hands while Crutchie searched for words.

“I assumed it's dyed, and considering the quick death I doubt the florist cared much for it to last in the first place. Black roses mean death, a rainbow rose would've been so much more fitting.” Crutchie grinned up at him.

David laughed. Actually laughed, a full lunged and genuine sound for the first time in a week.

“Oh my, I'm such a terrible mess.” David laughed a bit harder.

“Losing it all on these sick little games?” Crutchie chuckled with him.

“Holy shit! Yes! I haven't heard that song in so long, Crutch.” David said.

“I'd say we should go see them on tour but I'm not.sure we could afford it and I'm not sure it'd be great for my leg.” Crutchie leaned against the wall, pulling his phone from his pocket to presumably search tickets and dates 

“No, we totally could! Seriously we should, unless you think it's a bad idea. If we get back and you hated the experience I'll pay you back for the wasted ticket.” 

David got excited, rushing back into his own room to grab his laptop and check his savings for the money.

“U-hm,” Crutchie drew out the sound dramatically, “No way, hotshot. I will, however, let you buy me a shirt.”

“Deal.”

* * *

 

“Listen, Spotty, Jeremy said that his friends would be happy to drive and help out with setting stuff up if we could just get the event replanned! They also want a booth for their arts and shit.” Race scrolled through notes on his tablet, Spot on the couch by his feet.

“Shadow said they'd do the event planning for us, or DJ some of the time if we asked. David hasn't responded to anything so I doubt he wants to help do it all again.” He continued rambling.

“Does Shadow wanna MC? We have a few musicians set up and the DJ can be rebooked, but we don't have any announcers.” Spot said.

“They totally could, if you wanna message them about all of it. Oh! And Smalls said she'd talk her dad into letting us use the park downtown, so Medda isn't pulled into drama. Snipes has the fireworks covered as well.” 

Race grinned at his boyfriend, pride swelling in his chest. They were disappointed in taking over for Jack but happy so many people were willing to pitch in to help, and make a profit.

“Nothing is set in stone though.” Race closed his tablet case with renewed enthusiasm.

“Right, that's Shadow’s job once you hire them as the event coordinator. What about you? Are you performing, or are you gonna have a booth?” Spot dragged race closer to him, both of them dissolving into a fit of laughter.

“I was thinking about sitting this one out if I can. Enjoying the festival myself.” A look of disdain covered Race’s face. “Hopefully I can.”

“Of course you can. So many people are excited to help and come. We've got this all figured out and you! You're doing an amazing job beginning preparations.” Spot said.

Spot threw a leg over Race’s and grinned at him, challenging and inviting all at once. Spot threw his hands around Race's neck as Race drew stars on his thighs, and before their lips could even touch, the apartment door was thrown open.

“Race holy fuck!” David yelled, dropping his extra key on the counter as the couple ripped apart.

Spot’s face screamed ‘absolutely livid’ but Race just rolled his eyes and gave him a peck on the lips, throwing him sideways and going to meet Race by the door.

“Sup?” Spot yelled from the couch.

Race made the noise of a frustrated key-smash as he was hit directly in the face by a (luckily dethorned) rose.

“Hmm, wonder who that's from?” David said, extremely sarcastically, from perched on their counter.

“The Phantom?” Race held the rose carefully, inspecting it.

“Exactly what Crutchie said. How are planning going?” David asked.

“How are planning going?” Spot raised an eyebrow, joining them.

“I haven't had human contact in a week shut up and leave me alone.”

“It's going fine, we've got plenty of offers and all I gotta do is forward the communications to the event planner and we're set. Don't suppose you have anything I need to put you in contact with them for?” Race said.

Spot took the flower and gently touched the petals, watching cautiously as if he didn't want to break the useless thing.

“Nah.”

“Good.”

That ended the conversation, so Spot tossed the flower back to its owner and they all did their own things, enjoying having each other around.

It's pleasant to know that things could go well, and to find out? There's no day but today. 


End file.
